


captain america says: adopt don't shop!

by gee (falloutblink182)



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, clint barton being a mess, excessive eye rolling, inspired by: my own cat, it's cute i guess like what else am i supposed to say here, natasha romanoff being an enigma, they get a cat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-19 21:10:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18978403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falloutblink182/pseuds/gee
Summary: In which Bucky reconsiders his friendship with Clint Barton, Captain America drools on the Winter Soldier, a dog makes a new friend, and a cat finds a home.





	captain america says: adopt don't shop!

It was Steve who first suggested it.

He was awakened by a car alarm outside, and after noticing that the space next to him in his bed was empty, he knew there was no chance of sleeping until he knew where Bucky was. With bleary eyes and his hair sticking out in each and every direction, he stumbled out of bed and headed towards the kitchen, where Bucky was sat on the floor, wedged in the corner. He had a large fluffy blanket wrapped around his shoulders, and his wide eyes were transfixed on the phone that he was holding in front of him. Steve made his way towards him slowly, and asked “can I sit next to you?”, voice thick with sleep. Bucky grunted an affirmative, so Steve wrapped himself around his blanket lump boyfriend and tucked his head comfortably on his shoulder, face positioned to see what Bucky was watching. 

On the small screen is......kittens. Lots and lots of small, fuzzy kittens that are so fucking cute. They had little pink noses and tiny little paws and Steve understood why Bucky was so transfixed.

“It’s called the Kitten Academy Livestream. You can go on it anytime and there’s always kittens.” Bucky explained, speaking in that quiet voice you speak in when it’s night and you feel like you need to speak quietly even if there’s nobody to disturb. 

Steve dragged his eyes away from the cats to look at Bucky. He looked tired, but he always looked tired now. The purple circles under his eyes seemed darker than usual, though, in the kitchen that was illuminated only by the light of the street lamps leaking in through the gaps in the blinds. 

 

A tortoiseshell cat jumped off a perch.

 

“We could get one, if you wanted.” Steve’s eyes felt heavy. Bucky hummed. Wanting things and being allowed them without feeling guilty was still a concept that Bucky was getting used to, but he had gotten better. Still, there is a difference between wanting a pair of boots or a fancy set of kitchen knives and wanting a living, breathing creature that comes with a shitload of responsibility. 

Besides, it was 3am. Nobody can make good decisions at 3am.

“Let’s go back to bed,” Bucky said at last, but Steve had already fallen asleep, drooling over Bucky’s cheek.

 

* * *

 

The topic doesn’t resurface until Bucky visits Clint’s apartment for the first time. He’s met Clint many times before, would consider him a friend, even, but the opportunity to actually see where he lives had never shown itself until now. Whilst Steve gave Clint the Super Secret And Important Mission Thing (Steve had explained to Bucky what he had to give Clint and why they were going to his apartment but, like he did with most of Steve’s mission talk, Bucky tuned it out. It was _boring,_ okay, sue him.) in the kitchen, Bucky escaped the piled up dirty plates and pizza boxes to have a nose around the rest of Clint’s home. He looked at the photos on the wall in the hallway with interest, spotting Steve in a couple and Natasha in more, and made his way through the clutter towards the living room. The sofa looked ancient but comfy, with more cushions than Bucky had ever seen in his life, and it faced a large TV that was surrounded by a multitude of DVD’s, most of which don’t appear to be in their boxes, which are also strewn across the carpet – open and empty.

Bucky considers revoking his friendship with Clint.

A bow hangs on the wall, and there are arrows _everywhere,_ one pinning a dirty sock to the ceiling (Bucky asks Clint about this later. He says it was Natasha’s doing. Bucky thinks, not for the first time, that he doesn’t understand that woman _at all.)._

The lump of cushions on the sofa moves. Bucky freezes. He doesn’t freak out – if it’s an imposter then he can take them (he mentally counts the knives he currently has hidden on his person), and if even if he can’t, there are two Avengers stood only a few feet away, bickering about the right way to drink coffee.

Granted, they are (in Bucky’s opinion) the two _worst_ Avengers, but he’ll work with what he’s got.

He slowly reaches for a knife as he keeps his eyes on the sofa lump. It starts moving again, Bucky holds his breath, and then –

 

Oh.

 

Bucky suddenly feels like an absolute idiot as the tension leaves his body, because a dog has jumped out from beneath the mountain of cushions and is staring at Bucky with huge brown eyes. Well, eye, Bucky supposes – one eye seems to be stuck closed, and as he looks closer the dog seems to have been through some shit, judging by the scars and the uneven ears.

Bucky crouches, and holds out his flesh hand, palm up towards the dog. To his delight, the dog instantly bounds forward to say hello and Bucky sits down and lets the dog climb in his lap.

Steve and Clint walk in a minute later, their conversation stopping when they spot Bucky.

“I see you’ve met Lucky,” Clint says, a grin on his face, and Bucky laughs. Steve falls in love again.

“Lucky? We have rhyming names?” He asks, and shakes his head. “Man, that is so dumb.”

Steve watches as Clint talks a mile a minute about Lucky, with Bucky listening intently and letting the dog slobber all over him, and thinks back to the night where he found Bucky sat watching cat videos with a rare sort of innocence in his wide eyes. Steve looks at the joy on Bucky’s face as Clint shows him the tricks he’s taught Lucky.

Steve realises that they’re getting a pet.

 

* * *

 

 

 

He brings it up when they’re making dinner. Bucky is just draining the pasta, when Steve says “Should we get a pet?”. Bucky stares at him for a long moment, face unreadable, but Steve is used to Bucky’s stares, so he doesn’t squirm. Much.

“Why?” Bucky says eventually, and Steve smiles at him. “Because animals make you happy,” he says, and Bucky _gets it,_ because since he’s been back Steve’s sole purpose in life is to do whatever _makes Bucky happy._

“You’re allergic,” Bucky states simply, carefully not giving away any of the disappointment he feels regarding this matter.

Steve looks like he’s about to bounce out the window. “Not anymore! That’s another thing the serum fixed.”

Bucky swallows the lump in his throat. He never really thought about having a pet, not in the 1930’s when it was a struggle to keep him and Steve fed, let alone an animal, and certainly not in the war, and he can’t picture the Winter Soldier going around with a little puppy sidekick or something  (though the image is kind of funny, in a twisted way), and since he got back he’s been more focused on recovery than anything else. He was a lot better now though – not the best, not perfect, and he still had so much shit to deal with, but he sometimes slept through an entire night now without nightmares and he could wait in line in Starbucks without wanting to jump out of his skin every time a business busybody waiting on their latte jostled him slightly, and he _did_ like animals. The Kitten Academy Livestream was a godsend when his brain was too loud, or he just needed a reminded that there was good in the world.

If he needed a reminder that there was good in _him._

There was something he found so heart-wrenchingly human about watching these kittens – he was in love with them, they made him feel soft, he found them _adorable._

The Winter Solider wouldn’t have found them cute.

But actually owning a pet – that came with a whole bunch of responsibilities and Bucky doesn’t know if he’s capable of. There are days when he can’t get out of bed, and days when he doesn’t know who he is – where he doesn’t even remember _Steve_ , and he lashes out in anger and fear. Although these days are decreasing and happening further apart, they still happen, and the thought of accidentally hurting an innocent animal when he’s freaking out because he couldn’t recognise his reflection that morning makes him shake a little bit.

No. He’s not getting a pet.

However.

He has vague knowledge of service dogs – how they can help people with mental health issues or disabilities, and he remembers Clint telling him casually how Lucky helps him stay grounded in reality on days when it all gets to be too much, and thinks of the cat he once saw at Natasha’s place who she swore wasn’t hers but she spoke to it softly in Russian and it swiped and hissed at anyone who tried to get near her but curled up in Natasha’s lap, and when they breached conversation topics that made Natasha feel….anything, her fingers that were entwined in the cat’s fur seemed to calm her somewhat.

Or at least, that’s what Bucky thought. He still didn’t claim to know anything for certain about Natasha. She was an enigma.

And it did sound nice, having a pet in the house – he imagined a cat twining through his ankles as he boiled the kettle for a cup of tea, or a dog leaping up at the front door when he and Steve came home after a long day, or even a guinea pig in the back garden, nibbling grass and leftover vegetables from his and Steve’s dinners.

He realised Steve was still waiting for a response, so he sighed and said “I’ll think about it,” and Steve smiled and said “okay!”, and they didn’t talk about it again as they had their dinner.

 

* * *

 

When Bucky said “I’ll think about it”, that of course meant that “I’ll do excessive research on what pet is best suited for us based on our lifestyles, personalities, and abilities, plus how each pet is looked after and what the best brands and products are”. He spends many nights with his eyes glued to his laptop screen reading about common household items that cats and dogs are deathly allergic to, which pets that you have to get more than one of because otherwise they get lonely, and the benefits of adopting over buying.

He reads about puppy mills. He throws the laptop across the room and it smashes against the wall. He doesn’t stop shaking for hours, despite Steve pushing a mug of hot chocolate into his hands and speaking softly as he strokes his back.

In the end, however, he comes to a conclusion.

“I want a cat,” he says after breakfast one morning, when Steve is getting ready to leave for his run with Sam, and Bucky is about to binge watch _Say Yes to the Dress,_ because honestly, _fuck_ running.

Steve looks at Bucky with surprise, before beaming. “Sure, Buck,” he says. “You got a particular cat in mind?”

Bucky gives him a list of local cat shelters that he has deemed worthy of his consideration.

Steve reads the list and says “I’m free this afternoon. We could look round these places today, if you want?”

Bucky nods, and takes back the list. He pulls Steve in for a kiss, says “I look forward to it” with a smirk and a suggestive tone that should not be used when talking about getting _a cat,_ Jesus Christ, and pushes a slightly dazed Steve out the door so he can watch his trashy TV in peace.

 

* * *

 

They get to the first shelter and they’re both practically vibrating with excitement as they push step through the door. Steve talks to the receptionist and she leads them both towards a door that says CATS THIS WAY (which, Bucky thinks, is how he would capture himself if he was HYDRA). He takes Steve’s hand and tangles his metal fingers with Steve’s boring human fingers. Steve smiles, and brings their hands up to his mouth to brush his lips against Bucky’s knuckles. Bucky rolls his eyes.

They finally enter the room with the cats, and they stop. The receptionist leaves them to it, saying she’ll be out front if they need any help, and Bucky takes in his surroundings.

The room is more of a corridor, the walls made of equal sized cages and through the bars of each cage there is a cat. Something about the small cages and the metal and the desperate mewing of the cats makes something clench in Bucky’s chest, and he doesn’t realise how tense he is until Steve gently taps his shoulder and says “don’t get me wrong, Buck, I love the spontaneous hand-holding, but if you hold my hand any tighter you’re gonna break it, champ.”

Bucky releases his grip on Steve’s hand and apologises softly.

“Let’s go somewhere else”, he says, and Steve nods and follows him out as they leave the shelter without a word to the confused receptionist.

 

* * *

 

 

 

The next shelter they visit is more promising. The cats aren’t kept in cages which are stacked along the walls, but instead they are in larger runs, so they have more room to move about. Each run has a kitty door on the far wall which Bucky guesses leads to an outdoors section. The room has less metal and more colour, with the runs being lined with fake grass and toys being strewn about in each enclosure. Steve looks at Bucky with a quirked eyebrow, and Bucky rolls his eyes and nods, a smirk growing on his face. They start wondering down the enclosures, reading the little signs that have information about the cats and poking their hands into the gates for the cats to sniff at. When Bucky looks over, Steve is busy opening the enclosure of a sleek black cat with big green eyes and taking it out gently, and Bucky has to tear his eyes away from where Steve is cooing gently at the cat as it wraps itself around his neck.

Bucky keeps moving forward, and although he falls in love with every cat he passes, their big, shiny eyes blinking up at him, none of them feel like _the one._ He reaches the very end, to an enclosure he assumes to be empty and he’s just about to turn back to see what new cat Steve has released, when he hears a soft meow.

He looks back at the enclosure, and watches as a tabby cat emerges from inside a fabric cube. It walks slowly, and Bucky glances at the info sheet to learn that the cat is a he, named Poe, and is fairly old, and –

Oh.

_Oh._

He looks at the sheet, then takes another look at Poe to confirm what he’s reading.

The sheet isn’t lying.

Poe comes closer, looking up at Bucky with curiosity in those huge eyes, and Bucky tries to swallow the lump in his throat.

He takes a breath, and then calls Steve over.

Steve comes over, talking about the cats he’s seen and held so far and how none of them have felt right and how maybe they should check out the other places and how maybe they –

He stops next to Bucky, and looks down at the cat.

“He’s missing a leg,” Bucky says, not taking his eyes off Poe.

Steve feels like his heart is about to leap right out his throat.

“Do you – do you want to hold him?” Steve asks, jangling the keys the receptionist gave him.

Bucky tears his gaze away from Poe and looks at Steve. He nods.

So Steve gently opens up the enclosure and steps back as Bucky slowly crouches down and lets the cat sniff his palm, and then it jumps up into his arms – surprisingly agile for a cat of his age, Steve thinks.

 “Sam’s going to make fun of you, y’know, once he finds out you chose an amputee kitty.”

Bucky shrugs, mumbles something under his breath that sounds like “I don’t give a shit”, but then snaps his head up to look at Steve.

“Wait – so, we’re getting him?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Obviously. Unless you’d rather get a kitten – this does say that he’s an old man.”

Bucky holds the cat tighter. “So are we.”

Steve beams.

“Then I guess he’s perfect.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by own old lady cat - she too was a tabby with three legs, her name was Casper, and she was the best cat to ever live to be honest. Also, this feels really unfinished to me so I might write more because I can't get enough of Bucky with cats.


End file.
